


Undone

by chellerrific



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chellerrific/pseuds/chellerrific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hundred years comes down to a single moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone

**Author's Note:**

> A world of femmeslashy comedy at my fingertips and this is what I come up with. Who am I and what have I done with the real me.

Everything is dissolving into chaos. Captains are fighting against captains. The Sokyoku is destroyed. Shinigami are showing loyalty to ryoka over their own superiors.

Is she the only one who has kept her head as the world goes mad around her? She screams at the remaining lieutenants to apprehend the traitor and the escaping prisoner, something she can scarcely believe they couldn’t manage the presence of mind to think of themselves.

And then all three of them, three lieutenants, are defeated in seconds by an unarmed ryoka. Omaeda, she’d expect this from, but isn’t Sasakibe better than this? Is there no one, she wonders as she grinds her heel into the younger Kotetsu’s sternum, no one here but traitors and half-wits?

She has no chance to take further action or even see what happens next. She is falling, caught in the unyielding grip of some unknown new arrival. Still more traitors to be cut down?

The mask comes off and Suì-Feng is undone.

The face above her is one she hasn’t seen with her waking eyes in over a century. Yoruichi Shihoin. A name she has cursed countless times. Now, finally and unexpectedly, her hour for retribution has come.

She fights. Her men turn out to be useless, but she is not. No longer is she left in the dust by her former mentor’s flash step. Homonka freckle Yoruichi’s flesh, putting her an inch from death, and Suì-Feng has barely a scratch on her.

She fights. But she cannot win.

Because the battle was over before it began, as soon as Yoruichi took off her mask and Suì-Feng came undone.

It’s been over a hundred years. A hundred years of nonstop training, and growth, and anger, and bitterness. A hundred years of blood, and sweat, and rage, and determination. A hundred years all undone in an instant.

In Yoruichi’s presence, Suì-Feng has regressed to the child she was before, the one who needed nothing more than to bask in the sunshine of her lady's presence. It’s painfully clear she will never be more than a pale imitation. There is nothing left of those hundred years but a hole in her heart. She lashes out, grasping at the last threads of her fury, knowing she must not show weakness—

But it’s too late. Something has already broken. Her hands are empty and so is she. The one who holds it all is the same one who always has: Yoruichi, her greatest joy and her greatest pain all at once.

Suì-Feng wants to scream, can’t stand the look of sorrow and pity in those golden eyes, can’t stand how easily Yoruichi stops her in her tracks and brings her to her knees. It’s more than she can bear.

Yoruichi does not ask for forgiveness. Suì-Feng already gave it long ago, without ever wanting or meaning to.


End file.
